


Dare You to Move

by frozenmorningdew



Category: Dancing with the Stars (US) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenmorningdew/pseuds/frozenmorningdew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Zendaya and Val are two people who are both running away from parts of their life. Will they be able to come together and form a new future or will their pasts come back to ruin what could become a beautiful love. </p><p>Warning(s): Mentions of drug abuse and rape</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**She** remembers playing backstage as a child, rummaging through chests full of second hand clothes used by the actors, dressing up in colorful costumes, stealing colors to paint her face; pretending the curtains were masses of people as she would run through them, always towards something but never quite knowing what. When things got too loud she would retreat into a corner, hands shielding her ears as she’d watch the stream of different people walk by. That’s how she liked it. She was invisible. With age came lack of invisibility. She was too old to dress up and too pretty to hide her face behind painted freckles and badly put on fake beards. She was also too tall to sit in the corners. Nowadays people would trip over her gangly legs if she even tried. She was visible now and as benign as it may seem, that was the worst part in her life. She couldn’t wait for college to start. She couldn’t wait to disappear in the sea of thousands. She couldn’t wait for this summer to be over.

 **He** would miss his family. Even after everything. Although he was an adult, there hadn’t really been a day where he didn’t see his parents. He was a family man and he often wondered why he still hadn’t found his own. Being 29, without a wife. Without children. Instead he had always had someone new on his arm. He knew his parents were disappointed, especially after what had happened in the last year. And that was why he was leaving for LA. A new start. A whole new beginning. He was gonna get back to the basics, just him and the dance floor. He couldn’t dance competitively anymore, he wasn’t allowed. Of course he wasn’t. But he wasn’t gonna give up on his passion. He would take whatever job he could get. He would teach in retirement homes if that what it took. This was the summer of redemption for Valentin Chmerkovskiy. And he was going to make the most if it.


	2. Chapter 1

The summer was here.

A time of joy. Days at the beach, road trips to beautiful locations that have yet to be tarnished by the human hand and going skinny dipping in your neighbors pool while they’re driving their way across the country, stopping at every out-of-the-way place that boasts of the world’s largest paper cup or whatever it was they built to lure visitors.

That was how you’re supposed to spend your summer.

But to Zendaya Coleman, it sounded like her worst nightmare. She was a shy girl, always had been. It had been a big problem when she was younger. As a child, her parents and her preschool teachers had decided that she would stay an extra year. They had thought that she wasn’t ready for elementary school. She had been 5.

Being the oldest had been .. weird. She understood more than the other kids. She was sharper than them. But in her eyes they were always better. They were more playful, more outgoing. They raised their hands when questions were asked and they always sang louder than her when someone had a birthday.

As the year had gone on, she had opened up. Not much but enough for her parents and teachers to look at her and nod their head approvingly. She had made friends. Had play dates. The year she turned 6 was the first time she had willingly celebrated her birthday with a party. Slowly but surely, that following year, she had crawled out of her shell. Her mother always said she had blossomed like a flower and would then look at her, a mixture of disappointment and curiosity in her large eyes. That’s why she had come to hate that metaphor. If she had been a flower, she was a wilted one now.

12 years before her parents had uprooted her. From Oakland to L.A. It may not look like a great distance on a map but to Zendaya they might as well have relocated to the moon. The friends she had been able to connect with? Gone. 6 year olds don’t really have the willpower to sustain a long distance friendship. As time went by she had cared less about those she had lost from her life. But she had never really opened herself up for anyone again. She just kind of … drifted through life. The biggest joy she got was going to her mother’s place of work. Everyday, after school, she would enter the theatre and her soul would be at peace.

She was supposed to sit in her mother’s office and study, but more often than not, she would sneak through the halls and settle down backstage.

Playing dress-up with the costumes, putting on a new face. It transformed her. She would get the courage to run around, sometimes bewitching the people she encountered, at other times saving them from mortal danger. When rehearsals would start and the noise became too much, she would crawl into a corner, hands over her ears and watch the magic that happened onstage.

But that was then. She was too old now. Now, she was one of the people she had been bewitching years before. At 18 her mother had gotten Zendaya a job working in the theater. Odd jobs. Running errands. She didn’t like it. It made her too visible. In high school she had managed to stay invisible. She was a nobody, so nobody cared. But here, here it was different. Everyone knew who she was. Claire’s daughter. Some even remembered her as the little girl who had always been running around.  **So cute.** They had tried to engage her in conversations. **How is school? Oh you’ve graduated. What college are you going to? Oh Stanford. Local, good choice. Your parents must be so proud. What are you majoring in? Why haven’t we seen more of you? Claire, where have you been hiding your daughter?**

It all became a big blur. The same questions and the same answers.  **You’re so tall. You’re so beautiful.**  And she knew she should be appreciative. But she just couldn’t handle all this mindless chatter. So the answers became shorter, the questions became fewer and in under a week people had stopped making the time to talk to her. Sometimes she got an extra or two telling her how beautiful she was, along with one or two of what they deemed their best pick-up lines, but she’d never acknowledge them.

She had heard that it was a game. Whoever gets a date, or more, from the ice queen would be the lucky winner of … Well she didn’t know what they’d win and she didn’t care. She just wanted this summer to be over so she could once again fall into anonymity, this time with over 7.000 other students at a new school.

 


	3. Chapter 2

He walked the jet bridge and stepped into terminal 3 at LAX airport. The space was vast, and he felt a bit disorientated. He hadn’t been in L.A. for a long time. In the past couple of years, he and his dance partner Flavia, his **former** dance partner, had concentrated more on international competitions and put the US scene on the back-burner. He had always loved coming here though. It was always sunny and Val loved the heat. In his memory, growing up in the Soviet Union had been cold. And it hadn’t just been the weather. They had been poor and even though their home had always been warm with love, it was full of cracks threatening to either blow the cold air and snow in or crumble to the ground. He still remembers never being allowed to eat anything cold because of the threat of pneumonia. Walking barefoot was not allowed, at least not until the sun started bathing the concrete with its rays and the heat started, slowly but surely, to go up.

When he was 7 they had moved to America. New York was like a dream. After the fall of the Union, Ukraine had hit an economic barrier and things had been worse than ever. There was no future for them there and his father had singlehandedly bought them tickets to the land of the free. The journey had taken weeks. By train and by ship because they couldn’t afford 5 plane tickets. Although he was young, Val had felt a new beginning encircle him, his brother, parents and grandmother. He had missed his friends but he had not missed the lack of future that had followed them in their homeland. He had always been very outgoing and making friends in New York had been easy.

He had gotten into dancing, something his brother had started back home. His father had brought his own father’s violin with them and had told Val that if he worked hard and set his eyes on his goals, one day he would get it. So he had worked hard in everything. He had become a championship dancer; he had been a member of the New York Philharmonic for kids; he had excelled in high school, both in academics and in sports. He had won a scholarship to Cornell University where he had majored in philosophy. After graduation, he had decided to focus on his dance career full time instead of following the path of a postgraduate degree. He had done everything right. Except for the last year of his life. It had been a mess. He had lost himself in the depths, and it had been tough crawling back up.

But this was a new beginning. The summer of his redemption. He still had friends in the field, he hadn’t been shut out completely and although they had not been able to help him in the job department, he had managed to get an apartment through one of his friends’ contacts. He had a slew of job interviews lined up. He knew people were curious. They wanted to see Val Chmerkovskiy, disgraced championship dancer.

He had owned up to his mistakes. Thankfully, he hadn’t been too far gone. He had been able to get back to the things that mattered. The fog had lifted and he had stood there. All alone. Right back where he had started so many years ago. He had lost his dance partner. He had known that would happen. Flavia was an extraordinary dancer, and she deserved more. She couldn’t be linked to him, not after everything that had gone on. She was a champion and she deserved to have another champion by her side. He had lost the trust and respect of his parents. He knew they loved him, always would. But that heartbreaking look they always gave him now … He just couldn’t handle it. Even his brother, with all his faults and vices, would still at times just look at him and then shake his head.

He couldn’t live in the shadow of his own failures anymore. That’s why he had flown across the country. He knew that it would take a lot to get back to his former grind level. He had a lot to prove but he was willing. He was humbled by his past and he was ready for his future.


	4. Chapter 3

_June 14th 2015_

 

“We need all of the West Side Story costumes down in the basement. We have no need for them anymore. Can you take Troy with you to the costume department and make this happen? Zendaya? Do you hear what I’m asking you?”

But Zendaya hadn’t heard a word of what Carrie Ann, the stage manager had been saying. Instead, she had been focusing on the man, who was talking to her mother. He didn’t look familiar which meant he was most definitely there to interview for the choreography position that her mother had told her about. She examined him a bit. He was wearing all black, her favorite color. She only saw his profile but she knew right away how handsome he was. He had light green eyes and slight stubble on his jawline. She was snapped back to reality by Carrie Ann’s shrill voice.

“Zendaya! Can. You. Do. This?” She knew by the look on Carrie Ann’s face that she really should not ask about what she had been saying and she thanked her lucky stars when Troy, a boy her age, stepped in and told Carrie that they would get to it right away.

When Zendaya looked back at the spot her mother and the mystery man had occupied only moments before, she was disappointed at finding it empty. As she walked to the costume department with Troy, he began speaking but Zendaya again didn’t hear a thing as her mind wandered to the insides of her mother’s office.

* * *

 

Val sat down in the office of Mrs. Coleman, who was the manager of the theatre where he was applying for a job. She was a tall woman with short, blond hair and looked like she took no nonsense from anyone.

“So Valentin… “

“Please, call me Val.”

She gave him a reaffirming nod. “Val, it is then. I have read your resume and it’s truly outstanding. You are extremely acclaimed in your field of expertise. Tell me, how many interviews have you been to so far?”

“Well I’ve been here for two weeks and I’ve gone to approximately 2-3 interviews everyday which would make …” He rocked his head back and forth, like he was tallying up the numbers but the only thing that went through his head was how pathetic he must look at that exact moment “… A lot.”

“And why is that, do you think? Why are you still without a job?”

This was the moment. This was the moment he would tell all about his past, his rehab, and his suspension. Except it didn’t.  

“I can’t really say. The only thing I can truly talk about is myself. I can tell you how much of a hard worker I am. I take my job very seriously. I am passionate about dancing and I am passionate about people, who want to learn. I never give up and I don’t allow the people around me to give up either.”

He felt like he had just given the best sales pitch of his lifetime. He wasn’t lying, he had been all of those things. He was just a little lost right now.

_Breathe Val, breathe._

He couldn’t read the look on Claire’s face. Did this work?

“It doesn’t really look like you took your job,  **your career** , seriously in the last year or so.” She handed him a sheet of paper. It was his suspension.

There it went. What felt like his last chance at a new start.

How could he even have thought she didn’t know? Everyone else who’d interviewed him had clearly known, although no one had mentioned it. That’s why a man with his glowing career in dance hadn’t gotten a job yet.

“Tell me Val, did you honestly think that information like this wouldn’t be known? I will have to admit that I am slightly disappointed that you did not mention this yourself.”

“It doesn’t define me or my work.”

“It got you a suspension.”

“I was made an example for others.”

“Are you saying you didn’t deserve it?”

Val breathed heavily. He looked at the woman opposite him. She didn’t look mad. She hadn’t raised her voice once in the whole conversation. She wasn’t doing this to belittle him. She wasn’t doing this because she thought he didn’t deserve the position.  **She was challenging him**. She wanted him to show his worth. And he was going to.

“Dancing has been my passion since I was a kid. It had been my whole life for so long that when I got hurt and I couldn’t dance, I fell apart. I tried to fill that hole with other things. Illegal things. And it worked, for a while. But then that hole got so big that it swallowed me, and I couldn’t get back up. I let down the one person, who I was supposed to protect and confide in. I ruined our partnership, and I destroyed our friendship. But that made me realise that the way I was living my life was a problem and if I didn’t stop … Well, lets just say I probably would’ve stopped eventually, probably by liver or heart failure.” His attempt at lightening the mood was not welcomed by Mrs. Coleman. He continued.

“I ruined a lot of relationships. With my family, friends, fellow dancers. I deserved everything I got because I was reckless with my life. But I’m not anymore. I just want a chance to show everyone the beauty that lies within dance. The magic that happens when you hold someone in your arms and sway with them. I just wanted a chance.”

He hung his head and stood up from the chair. As he was about to open the door and leave, he heard the interviewer’s voice.

“I’m giving you a chance.”

He swung around faster than ever before, not sure that he had heard her right.

“You heard me right. You are far too accomplished for me to let you go. We all make mistakes and we all have our demons. As long as you stay on the straight and narrow and don’t let your problems affect your work. Welcome Mr. Valentin, you start tomorrow at 9 am.”

Val was so overjoyed that he rushed around the desk and hugged her. “Thank you so much Mrs. Coleman!”

She let out a short little laugh “It’s Claire. No formalities anymore, thank you.”

“Claire. Thank you so much.”

She waved him off and Val felt like he was walking on clouds. This was the perfect start. He had broken free from his life in New York, so he could start again here. And although this wasn’t the glamour that he was accustomed to, this wasn’t the bottom either.

 


	5. Chapter 4

_June 21st 2015_

 

He felt like he was getting back to his former self. His new job wasn’t as exciting as his former career had been, but it was entertaining and definitely a new challenge. He had never taught in such a capacity before. He had dropped in and taught a class or two in the dance studio his father and brother owned but that had been between competitions, and he hadn’t done that in over a year. He had been too busy ruining himself. But after only three weeks in this city, he felt better. Like maybe he could return back to his former life, if they’d have him.

He was working hard with his band of misfits. It had been apparent from the first rehearsal that his new students were actors and most definitely the kind who had the tendency to lie on their resume. There were more left foots than there were right ones, and Val had felt exasperated from the first failed jete. Thankfully, he was not alone. He was working alongside Cerise who was a classically trained ballerina, now in her late 30’s, who made the actors do pirouettes to Edith Piaf, as a means of a warm up. Val was pretty sure he could correctly cite her discography by year. Not that he was complaining.

“Val”

He could hear Cerise’s singsong French accent directed towards him.

“Will you no come out with us tonight? You never come.”

Val could feel the discomfort rising in his body; the fear of going out and losing control was too much for him. He tried to clear himself off those feelings and started rattling off the rehearsed piece he had hoped he’d never have to use.

“I would love to but I don’t go out. I don’t stop working even though I go home. It’s a sickness really.” He tried to play it off, even managing a little chuckle, although to Val, it may as well have sounded like a cry for help. He saw the pitying look she gave him.

“Val honey, we are in the same business. Professional dancing. I know.”

Val felt crestfallen. His suspension had been big news in the dance community. It wasn’t everyday that a dancer failed a drug test.

“I, all of us, are not here to tempt you. But I am here. I will see you right here at 8 am tomorrow morning.” She started walking away as Val called after her.

“We don’t start until 9.”

She didn’t stop as she replied, “They don’t start until 9. From now on, we start at 8. Perfection takes dedication.” And then she was gone.

Val breathed a sigh of relief, a part of him glad that his recent past didn’t seem to affect the one person he would be working most closely with. He turned off the Bluetooth speaker and grabbed his phone. As he stepped out into the corridor he notices someone; a girl, on her knees picking up small pieces of paper notes that were scattered all over the floor. He had seen her around a lot since he had started but had never officially met her. She was pretty, very much so, but she gave off a vibe. Like she didn’t want to be bothered. He decided to ignore it and walked towards her, bending and retrieving the paper notes he walked upon on his way to her.

He kneeled beside her and handed her the notes he had compiled.

“I think these belong to you.”

She raised her head, and their eyes met. He felt himself get lost in her dark brown ones. He could see her lips move and realised that he had been staring. As he snapped out of his daze, he could hear her thanking him.

“ …. and Ms. Gigot ‘accidentally’ bumped into me, but apparently, she was in too much of a hurry to help.”

“What, Cerise did this?”

Zendaya looked back down to the floor, still retrieving the notes. “Yeah, it was an accident. I’m all right; you don’t have to keep helping me. Its just notes.”

Val felt a wall rise between them, and he knew that further conversation was not likely to happen. “I don’t have anything better to do. I’m not gonna leave you here on the floor, at least.” He tried to sound light but he feared it might have come off as constricted. The girl beside him didn’t look amused at all. She looked … Sad.

“My name is Val, by the way. Val Chmerkovskiy.” He extended his hand in her direction and after what felt like minutes of him hanging out on a limb, she mirrored his movement and took his hand. Electricity jolted up his arm, and he resisted the urge to snatch his hand back.

“I’m Zendaya Coleman. Or just Zendaya, really.”

“Zendaya. That’s a unique name. Beautiful.”

Zendaya rose up quickly, and Val followed. “It gets attention.”

He could sense a hint of bitterness in her voice. “And you don’t like attention.”

She looked at him, her beautiful eyes, mesmerizing him once again.

“I can’t say that I do.” She shifted her weight, a bit uncomfortably and looked at the notes in his hands. He followed her eyes and noticed that there was one letter on each of the notes.

“What are these things we’re holding here?” He handed her the last of the notes in his hand.

“It’s for the costumes. We label them with notes and then catalogue them. Like  **A-73** ,  **C-81**.  **W-5**. It’s not really interesting.”

Her voice had lowered with every word she had spoken, until he couldn’t hear a sound coming from her.

He smiled sweetly at her and the corners of her mouth twitched a bit. Val broke out in a grin. “Was that a smile you just gave me?”

Zendaya narrowed her eyes, immediately turned off by the smugness of this stranger.

Val could sense the shift in her demeanour and quickly thought of a way to ease the strain that had formed between them. “I like it, your smile that is. Your real smile. It’s warm, even though it’s small. The one you wear for everyone else out there, I don’t like that one.” Zendaya could feel the lines of surprise wrinkle her forehead and realised her mouth was slightly open. “I’ve noticed it when I’ve looked at you. But it doesn’t matter if you wear it or not, you’re still  **beautiful**.”  _Fuck. When I look at you?_  He truly hoped he hadn’t come off as a sleaze. The last thing he wanted was her to pull away from him. _But why?_

He smiled at Zendaya, a smile so sincere that she didn’t know what to think. She wasn’t prepared for his words. Normally, people would tell her to smile more, that it made her  **prettier**. And she would always keep all the anger she felt towards those people inside cause she didn’t want to instigate a conversation. Sometimes, she would ignore them; sometimes, she would give them her best fake smile that no one except her parents could see through. Well her parents and Val Chmerkovskiy.

“Don’t apologize. You’re not inappropriate. You’re very nice. You’re were very nice in helping me.” Oh my god Zendaya. Stop telling him how nice he is. “Sometimes, all this labelling and moving costumes stuff gets boring, and I’m basically the only one doing it, so it gets really repetitive, and I have no one to talk to, not that I really talk, but I talked to because you’re really easy to talk to and …”  _OH MY GOD SHUT UP ZENDAYA._

She stopped mid sentence, looking at him with an apologetic expression and hurriedly tried to step past him, while saying a speedy see ya later.

“Hey!” She turned swiftly around, almost falling again in the process.

“I normally finish early, dance rehearsals are from 9 am until 1 pm. Maybe I can help you sometime? You know, with the labelling. Four hands are better than two.” He stuck out his hands and started making some sort of jazz hands motions with them.

Zendaya opened her mouth but had nothing to say. She tried again and this time words blurted out. “I’d like that. Maybe. Someday.” She could feel herself heating up again.

Val smiled a toothy grin. “Can I get your number then? So I can contact you? For helping.”

Zendaya thought about it for a short time before answering no.

“No?”

“No. You need to work for that. In the costume department.”

And with that she was gone. Her whole body was on fire, her brain screaming at her and her heart leaping in her chest. This was the longest conversation she had had all summer long, hell the whole year, and she didn’t feel the normal dread and fear. No. She felt like she was floating.

 

 


	6. Chapter 5

Val spent the next couple of days getting to know her better. He would often spend his free time helping her out with projects she had been given, and they would more often than not find themselves in the basement, browsing through racks of clothes and finding the assigned ones.

She was quiet at first, not welcoming his presence but not opposing to it either. One day, about two weeks after they first talked, something changed.

“Where do you think **K-28**  is?” Val looked at the racks which all had a letter. Every article of clothing on each rack was then numbered. Zendaya peeked out from a rack that must have been 65 feet away and peered her eyes.

“I think it’s over there, by the desk.” She pointed towards a mahogany desk that had clearly seen better days. Opposite it was a rack with a big  **K**  on the top.  

“Right, the one with the big  **K**.”

Zendaya smiled at him, but he could plainly see the sarcastic shine in her eyes.

As he reached the desk he noticed some folders on it. He picked them up, raising them above his head and calling out to Zendaya. “Don’t tell me you’ve already started your homework for college?” A single piece of paper slid from one of the folders and fell silently to the floor. Val bent down to pick it up when he noticed what it was. There on the floor lay a drawing of a girl. There were tears in her eyes and stray hairs from her bun were sticking to her forehead. It was Zendaya. He got down on one knee and let his fingers slide over the paper, only stopping when it came to her lips.

Suddenly he heard Zendaya’s voice. “What are you doing?” Her voice was filled with something; Fear? Anger?

“I just … I didn’t know what the folders were for so …”

“So you just decided to snoop? To go through someone’s personal belongings?”

He recognized the affliction in her voice now. It wasn’t filled with fear or anger. It was betrayal.

“No of course not. I would never betray your trust like that. It fell down, and I was just picking it up.”

He stood up, the piece of paper in hand. He put it back into the folder and handed it to her. Their fingers touched, and he could once again feel the electricity flowing between them. She snatched back the folder and clutched it tightly against her chest.

“You’re incredibly talented. Is this what you want to do with your life? Because you could.”

Zendaya didn’t know what to say. Her cheeks felt warm and flushed. In fact her whole while body did. She didn’t know if it was because of the embarrassment she currently felt or because of his presence. After what felt like an eternity, she managed to croak out an answer. “It’s just a hobby.” She didn’t even look up when she said it, instead focusing on the floor. All of her life she had drawn, honing her craft for no one to see. Never had she allowed anyone to see her work. Not even her parents. She wasn’t even sure if anybody knew of her talent. 

Val looked at her, a tiny pool of anger starting at the pit of his stomach. How could a girl with this enormous amount of talent talk so frivolously about it? “I can see it. I can see it in your eyes. This is what you want.” He saw the fire in her eyes, and he knew he had hit a nerve.

_Good. Maybe she’ll finally really speak to me._

Zendaya’s voice became louder than he had ever heard before. “You can see it? See what? The pain that I go through everyday, knowing I will never be able to proudly show off my work? Can you hear that voice in the back of my head, the one that continuously tells me not to step out of beat so no one will notice me? I don’t understand …”

She choked on her own breath and finally looked at him. He was smiling. It was a small one but it kept the fire within her ignited. Before she could start up again, Val started talking.

“I can see how much you want it because it’s the same way I felt about dancing. Feel” he corrected himself. “You can always see people’s passion in their eyes. And yours lies within that folder.” He eyed it for a second before is gaze returned to hers. “I screwed up my career, my passion, for indulgence. For momentary satisfaction. I can’t bare the thought of yours because of … what? Shyness? The unbearable thoughts of being judged? This is greater than that. This drawing … It speaks for itself yet leaves so many questions. And that’s what good art is supposed to do.”

… … … .

“Why are you so sad?”

“What happened to your career?”

They looked at each other, neither wanting to give away their secrets.

“I got suspended from competitive dancing.”

“Why?” It was a sharp retort 

“For doping.”

“Doping? Like … Steroids? Why would a dancer need to get bigger? Aren’t you supposed to be lean and bendy?”

Val let out a shaky laugh. This was an uncomfortable situation, but somehow he knew he could trust her.

“Not steroids. It was more recreational.”

“Recreational? Oh. OH.” Realisation dawned on her. For a split second she wanted to run up the stairs that she could see out of the corner of her eye but she stood still, examining his face. Trying to figure out what he was thinking, but he didn’t give anything away.

“So … You’re an addict?” She tried to choose her words carefully, but she was also not sure what would be appropriate in a situation like this.

Val drew a deep breath and exhaled quickly while he gathered his thoughts.

“It’s not really that easy to define”

Zendaya shot him a confused look but kept asking questions that burned on her.

“How did it begin? I mean, have you always done it or was it something new?”

“Two years ago, August 2013. I had a bad back and my partner and I had to withdraw from some competitions. It didn’t really hinder me, except when I was training and competing so those things were off the list. I started frequenting the bars back home more, meeting new people every night. Life kinda felt … I don’t know, pointless without dancing. There was a hole that needed to be filled. So I drank more. And more and more, until I started getting really sloppy. Missing family dinners, forgetting people’s names. I knew that I couldn’t keep on, but I didn’t want to lose that high. So I turned to my new friends, and I started using cocaine. It was okay at first, well that’s a lie. It was never okay, but I was able to control it. But the more I used it, the more depressed I got. And the more depressed I got, the more I would drink. It became a cycle that didn’t end, when I was cleared for dancing again. I was a high functioning user on the drug scale, but Flavia and I didn’t win in any of the four competitions we participated in after I was cleared. We didn’t even place. And then, about a year ago I was randomly selected for drug testing. I had cocaine in my system. Not even small amounts either.”

A silence fell between them, neither wanting to break it.

“I broke my family’s heart. I was suspended for two years. I quit on my own, I knew I had to, but five months after it happened, I fell. It was the night my father told me that he hadn’t sacrificed everything to move our family to this country so I could turn into the man I am.”

Zendaya could hear the sadness in his voice and could sense that he was on the verge of crying. She stepped up to him and put her fingers around his, holding them rather awkwardly but gently.

Val, closing his eyes and taking a long, deep breath,  enclosed his hand around hers and kept talking.

“I’ve always been someone that my parents have been able to be proud of. But I have also always known that there are consequences for my actions. So after that one night of mindless behaviour, I went to rehab for 6 months. It didn’t really resonate with me. Even after all those months. I got out last April. My friend Alex was the only one who came to pick me up. I spent almost two months trying to live my life in New York, but I didn’t feel welcome. Not by my family, not by my old colleagues. Not by Flavia. She deserves a better partner anyway, someone who doesn’t fuck up her chances of glory for a cheap thrill.”

They were still holding hands, and he still had his eyes closed. Zendaya studied him. He was just as handsome as the first time she had seen him. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in days, as the stubble on his jawline was more prominent than normally. She felt safe in his hand. Like their hands were meant to be entwined. _Don’t even think about it Zendaya_. She looked away quickly, as she saw his eyes open.

“My parent’s only disappointment in me used to be the fact that I was in my late 20’s and had yet to marry and have children. I only wish it was that simple now.”

He smiled at her, letting go of her hand gently.

“Now you. Why are you sad?”

Zendaya looked at him, her own mind at war with herself. She knew she could trust him. He had just poured his soul into her lap. The words were on the tip of her tongue but in the end she decided against sharing her story. It happened so long ago anyway.

“I’m not sad. You were right before. It’s shyness. The fear of being seen. I’ve always been like this, although it did escalate my freshman year.”

“What happened then?” He looked so sincere that she almost let it slip.

“Nothing specific. Just a new school, new expectations, yet the same old me.” She tried to smile, but it looked rather like a grimace to Val.

“I understand. You don’t have to tell me now.”

He saw she was about to protest, but he continued before she could.

“You don’t have to tell me now because we’ve got all the time in the world. This here” he gestured between the two of them “is just the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Or something. That’s Casablanca. Humphrey Bogart.”

“I’m too young for that.”

She started giggling as she saw Val’s face, a mock hurt look on his face.

“I will not tolerate another old joke. You’re as old as me, at least your soul is.”

The atmosphere in the basement had changed. Zendaya only now realised how the distance between them was non-existent. Their faces were mere inches apart and she wanted nothing more than to kiss him. It scared her. She had never allowed anyone to get this close to her. Not since that night. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

“We really need to get these costumes to the main stage. Can you, ehm, can you take the ones we’ve already found and bring them to Carrie?” She walked to the pile that had amassed on the floor and started picking up the clothing. She didn’t turn around when she heard him walk up to her. She only put the bundle of clothes in his arms and went back to searching the racks.

As the stairs started creaking under his weight, she put her face in her hands and let out a quiet sob. There were so many things wrong with this situation. He was so much older than her. This was too fast. How could he want a child? Was she ready?

But even though all of these thoughts were swimming in her head, she could only focus on his smell that lingered in the air and the fact that he made her feel like she could do anything.  


	7. Chapter 6

_July 3rd 2015_

“This was a good rehearsal guys! You’re looking so much better than just two weeks ago. You’re coordinating; you’ve gotten a handle on the rhythm, well almost, and you are starting to trust each other, which is the most important thing in dance. I’m proud of you, my little babies.”

Val put a hand over his heart, as the cast rolled their eyes and scoffed at him. They said their goodbyes to him, as they walked out of the studio, some of the guys high fiving him, while some of the girls tried to get his attention. There were a couple that had spent the last month trying to get him to ask them out, but he wouldn’t bite. He wasn’t interested in anything like that. He had thought that something might happen with Zendaya, but she had nulled that in the beginning. They had almost kissed. He had thought about it constantly for the past two weeks, but he respected her wishes, and he respected her. If she didn’t want anything to happen between them, he would not …

Things had been a bit awkward the first few days after, but soon, they had fallen into their pattern with him trying to get her to show him some more of her artwork and her trying to get him to talk about his parents. Neither of them gave in, but with every conversation, every smile, she beamed at him, he fell harder. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t. This was supposed to be his time. Where he would be able to find himself again, and he didn’t need any more complications. Starting romantic relationships, while in recovery was never the smartest of ideas. But he couldn’t help it. Everything about her was wonderful. Sometimes, he would find himself staring like an idiot at her for minutes, without her knowing thank god. He would help her everyday after his workday was over just to be nearer to her. Listening to her voice soothed him, made him forget all of his troubles. But it would never happen, and he had become one of those men, who he had always looked down upon. He had always been the player, no feelings involved, no strings attached. But this felt better. This felt fulfilling.  **This felt torturous.**

He thought back to a conversation they had had yesterday.

_Yesterday afternoon_

“What do you mean you don’t dance? Everyone dances!”

Zendaya dropped a box of clothes right next to his feet, one eyebrow arched perfectly. “I never said I didn’t dance. I dance. In my bedroom. When no one is home. I just don’t know how.”

“You don’t have to know how? You just have to move your body. Like this.” Val started moving his upper torso and swivelling his hips in a manner that made Zendaya laugh out loud. No, scream out loud.

“Ok no. You do not get to criticise my gyrating. You don’t know how to dance remember!”

“Oh my god that was hilarious, Valentin!”

“Let me see you do better.”

“No. No  you won’t see me  **do better**  because I am not a professional dancer, and I have nothing to prove. I also have two left feet and arms that go in opposite directions, so that is never going to happen.”

Val looked her over, concentrating on her frame.

“Spin for me.”

“Excuse me?” Zendaya looked at him with a curious expression, her arms folded across her chest.

“Spin for me. I’m doing an experiment.”

“And may I ask what is this experiment about?”

“Please Z, just turn for me.” The pleading look on his face worked. It always worked. Everything he did worked with her. She had been waiting for two weeks for another moment like they had shared in this very basement but nothing had happened. Another moment so she could be brave. So she could take a chance. But it seemed as though he had thought it was a mistake and didn’t want a repeat. She turned for him, without knowing the reason, and saw the excitement in his eyes when her face aligned with his.

“What size shoes do you wear?” He walked towards her but bent down to examine her shoes. She pulled her feet away from him, getting more perplexed by the second.

“Ok no, this is not alright. What is going on Val?”

“You’re a size 10 right? You’re tall, very proportional. Yeah, you’re a size 10.”

“Will you please tell me why you’re asking all of these questions?”

Val avoided her questions, coming out with his own in return.

“Are you free tomorrow night? At 8-ish?”

Zendaya was stunned by his question. “What? No, I don’t think so …”

“Would you like to hang out with me, go somewhere?”

_Is this a date? Is he asking me out?_

Val saw the questioning look on her face and confused it with fear.

“As friends. Just two friends hanging out.”

Zendaya could feel her face fall, but she tried to recover. “I’m game. Cool.”

“Okay great! I got your number, I worked for that, and I’ll text you before I pick you up. See ya tomorrow!” He winked at her, as he practically bolted out of the door.

Zendaya felt confusion, excitement and disappointment all at once. At least she would be able to spend time with him outside of work.

——

“So Val, are you gonna tell us what this is all about?”

Val, who had just finished hanging the last fairy lights on the wall mirrors, gave his two friends, Peta and Sharna, a ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ kind of smile. He was situated in a ballroom in the studio that they owned. He had been able to talk them into lending him the key for tonight.

Peta tapped her heel into the floor. “Don’t you give me that look. I have known you for almost 14 years Val, and you’ve never done anything like this before. It’s for a girl, right?” She had a hopeful look on her face. Sharna on the other hand was not as happy.

“Val if this is for a girl, let me just say that I do not approve of this. You’ve only just started recovering and rushing into a romantic relationship is not something that you need right now. Especially with the way you always seem to handle them.”

Val felt a bit annoyed at Sharna’s words. “How do I normally  **handle**  these things?”

Sharna answered matter-of-factly. “You don’t. You meet someone, you give them all the attention they crave, you sleep with them, and you leave.”

He knew she was right, especially since she had been on the other end of that many years ago. He felt shame come rushing into his every limb.

“Look Sharna, I know I behaved like an ass to you … “

Sharna stopped him immediately. “Val no, this is not about something that happened almost ten years ago. I am not in that place anymore, thank god. My only concern is you and your health and your happiness. Is this something more than normally?”

Her face gave off a mixture of worry and hopefulness, and the only thing Val wanted was to tell them the truth.

“In all honesty, this isn’t anything but friendship. This is a girl, not even 19, that just needs to feel beautiful and brave. And I just want to help her with that.”

Both Peta and Sharna looked content with that answer, although, he saw a sliver of doubt cross Sharna’s eyes.

A beeping interrupted the moment, and Val looked at his phone. It was a message from Zendaya. ‘12720 Venice Blvd APT 301. My address. I’ll be ready when you’re here’

Val looked at the time on his phone,  **19:38**. He had to get a move on.

“I have to go, have to pick her up. Please don’t worry about me and my life. I’m just grateful that you’re still on speaking terms with me.”

“We will never let you go.” They both hugged him, wishing him well and reminding him to not destroy their studio.

Val hadn’t felt this nervous in a long time. He rarely got performance jitters because he always had full faith in his capability, so he didn’t know how to shake it off. He just had to remind himself that this was her night, not his, and he was going to make sure she remembered it for a long time.


	8. Chapter 7

“Where are you taking me? I don’t like surprises.”

Zendaya fiddled with the blindfold. She wasn’t lying, she hated surprises. She desperately wanted to take it off, but at the same time, she didn’t. Val had been practically giddy, when he had picked her up, and she didn’t want to ruin it for him.

“Patient little one. All will be revealed in time.”

She turned her head so he couldn’t see the smile that was betraying her tone of frustration. They had been driving for about twenty minutes, and Zendaya had no idea where they were headed. She had imagined all kinds of scenarios in her head for the last twenty minutes. Where he was taking her, what was gonna happen. _What was happening?_

The car abruptly stopped and Zendaya felt the knot in her stomach tighten. _Breathe. Just breathe._

“Ok we’re here. Hold still, I’m gonna open the door for you.”

Seconds later she heard a door being slammed and another one being opened. She felt his hand grab hers, as he helped her out of the car. It was sweaty. Maybe he’s as nervous as I am? Of course he isn’t.

His hand never left hers, as he guided her. Through a walkway that smelled like roses, up 5 steps and then through a door. The house they were in smelled like lemons. It stung her nose a bit, but she quickly got used to the smell. He led Zendaya through what she could only think was a corridor and then stopped. She heard him opening a door and then he took the blindfold off. What she saw took her breath away. It was a dance studio, illuminated by dozens of fairy lights. As she walked further in, she saw that a table for two had been set in the corner. By one of the chairs was a rather large box.

“Go on, open it” Val nudged her a bit and she walked towards the box. It was white and had a purple bow. She opened and noticed purple wax paper. As she pulled it back, she felt astonished.

She felt Val’s presence near her, and as she turned around, he was mere inches away from her.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s a … dress?” She still couldn’t wrap her head around this gift.

“It’s a gown. It’s used in ballroom dancing. See … “ He pulled the gown out of the box and held it in front of her. It was beautiful. She could tell just by looking at it that it would fall close to her body, but it still wasn’t too form fitting. It had a sweetheart neckline with one sheer sleeve, the other one non-existent. There were embellishments from the neckline down to the waist; light pink flowers. She touched the fabric, chiffon and satin.

A sudden wave of anxiety came rushing.  _What was he doing?_  “This is … this is too much. I’m never going to wear this.” She looked at him, an eager look grazing his features.

“You’re going to wear this now. And I will wear the tuxedo that is in the box over there.” He pointed at a box that was rested against the foot of the other chair. “And we are going to dance, probably incredibly badly, but we are going to enjoy ourselves. Because that’s what life is truly all about.”

Zendaya just stared at him, as he handed her the dress. “If you walk back outside to the corridor there’s a room on the right that you can use to change. And don’t forget the shoes” He bent down and grabbed shoes off the floor, something that Zendaya hadn’t even seen until now. “I had to guess your measurements but I’m pretty good with that. I have keen interest in fashion, not women’s measurements.” He smiled at her and told her to go get ready, as he did the same.

Zendaya found the room but instead of undressing she just stood in the middle of the floor. No one had ever done anything like this before. She didn’t know what was happening. She felt every kind of emotion right now. Her whole body tingled, but she could still feel the fear in the pit of her stomach and the anxiety that was filling her chest.  

She took a deep breath, as she took off all her clothes. She put on the dress and zipped it up. It was almost all backless, although the zipper did reach her lower back. She reached for the shoes and noticed a beautiful hair clip that was pinned to one of the straps. It was the same flower as the ones on her dress. She put on the heels and clipped the accessory in her hair. She looked at her self in the mirror, and she liked what she saw.  _Maybe this is how others see me?_

She didn’t know how long she had been in the room, when she emerged from it. She walked back into the studio, and there he stood. White shirt, black bow. He had never looked this handsome. And he was looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. _I want you._

He held a small remote in his hand and pointed it in the direction of some speakers that were on a table by the wall. A slow song came on, she didn’t recognize it, but the beat felt soothing. He bowed down to her and reached out his arm. She walked towards him, a bit wobbly on her feet because of the heels, and put her hand gently in his. He raised their arms, gesturing for her to spin. She tried, and as she was about to fall down, he grabbed her and pressed their bodies together.

His mouth almost touched her ear, as he whispered “I dare you to let go of everything you have ever thought of yourself. I dare you to trust me, to let me lead you. I dare you to show me who you really are.  **I dare you to move**.”

She couldn’t form any words; a nod of the head was the only affirmation he got.

They started moving across the floor with Zendaya stumbling ever so often and Val holding her tighter and tighter so she wouldn’t fall. And even though she wasn’t as refined as she had looked when not in motion, she felt as though she was floating.

The song ended and Zendaya felt disappointment starting to settle until she heard piano and strings fill the studio.  _Latch_. She knew this song. She loved this song. They moved together in perfect unison; slowly but surely moving closer to each other with every step until Val’s hands had from her palms and were resting in her waist. Her arms automatically moved to around his neck and as soon as Sam Smith started on the chorus a second time, Zendaya did something that she had thought was entirely impossible for her to do.  _She_  kissed  _him_.

She had taken herself by surprise and she felt unsteady on her feet but soon as she felt Val’s hands travel to her back and his grip tighten. She relaxed into him, pressing he chest into his and she could’ve sworn she could feel both of their heartbeats. His stubble, that had been scratching her face in a pleasing way, started to become uncomfortable. She pulled back, ending the kiss but still wanting more. Val put both of his thumbs on her cheeks, gently rubbing circles on the spots that were the most red. He lowered his head a bit so that they were forehead to forehead and just looked at her, a look of pure joy in his eyes, and Zendaya knew. She knew that this was only the beginning.


	9. Chapter 8

_August 5th 2015_

The next month went by fast with Val and Zendaya getting to know each other on new levels and enjoying it immensely. They both discovered Los Angeles for the first time, Val as someone who had just moved and Zendaya as someone who had never ventured anywhere before.

Their time was spent in museums with Zendaya always wanting to broaden her horizons when it came to art; they spent many lazy evenings walking through Venice or venturing through one of the many parks that the city had to offer. They went to the Greek Theatre and the Ford Theatre for outside concerts and ended July by going to see  **Much Ado About Nothing** at the Griffith Park. But Val’s favorite place by far was the Santa Monica Pier. Everything about it suited him. The bustling of the aquarium, the laughter and joy of the Pacific Park and the relaxation that came with cycling along the beach. They would ride in the Ferris wheel, breathing the sea air, their bodies moulding together for warmth. They would end every evening at the pier by going to the photo booths at Playland Arcade, taking picture after picture like any couple in a new relationship would.

Tonight was a beautiful and crisp summer night in August. Val and Zendaya laid together on a blanket near the Griffith Park Observatory, telling each other stories of their childhoods and their dreams of the future. Zendaya cuddled into Val, her right arm draped over his torso and her right foot lazily settled on top of his. His left hand was situated on her thigh, slowly moving in long motions up and down her thigh.

Zendaya felt chills running all through her body and a need rising in her. The need was quickly swallowed by fear and guilt, two emotions that Zendaya knew too much about.

She untangled herself from him and sat up, hugging her knees close to her chest.

“What’s wrong?” He sat up with speed, putting his arm around her shoulders. He felt her flinch under his touch and he retreated back.

“I need you tell you something. It’s something that I’ve never told anyone before.”

Val could almost hear the tears in her voice. He moved himself so that he was sitting opposite her, his legs crossed. She mimicked his action. Her eyes didn’t leave the blanket and Val thought that she might stare a whole through it.

“I don’t really know where to start … I guess I should tell you about him.”

Val wasn’t really sure where this was going but he sat quietly and waited for her to continue.

“It was my first year of high school. I was 15, because I started a year later, and I wasn’t very social. I was awkward, didn’t have any friends,  **never have** , and I just did my work in silence and then I left. It went like that for months but one day, it was in early January if I remember correctly … yeah, the second semester had just begun. There was this boy that started talking to me. He was new and didn’t have any friends and he thought that I looked; I don’t remember what he said. Genuine maybe? Like I wasn’t fake like everyone else. We got on great. I’ve never opened up as fast to anyone before, well except …” For the first time in minutes she looked at Val, a small smile grazing her lips but a world of pain reflected deep in her eyes. She started to talk faster.

“We spent every evening at each other’s houses. My parents were just so happy that I had a friend that they didn’t care that he was a boy. One day he came up to me and told me about this party, it was like this end of the school year big thing that one of the popular girls was throwing and apparently he had scored an invite for the both of us. I didn’t really have any interest but he was my friend and he was really excited.”

She stopped talking, tears streaming down her face. “I was drugged. I don’t know who did but it happened and then … then he raped me. My best friend.  **My only friend.**  I couldn’t do anything. I knew what was happening but I couldn’t move. It was the drug I think. Or fear. I don’t know. Two guys from the Varsity football team watched. I could see them from the corner of my eyes, when the tears stopped.”

Her normally translucent and glowing skin was tear stained and dull. Val felt rage. Rage over what had happened to her. Rage over the fact that he had not known her back then so he could’ve protected her. He felt the urge to hit something, scream, kick. But he couldn’t and he knew he shouldn’t. All he could do was comfort the beautiful girl opposite him. That’s all he wanted to do.

He hesitated a bit, both wanting to take her in his arms but not wanting to infiltrate her personal space. Zendaya sensed this hesitation and misunderstood.

“Does this make me … undesirable to you? Am I not good enough?” The tears that had stopped flowing threatened to start again. Val’s heart sunk and he grabbed her hands, putting both of them up to his lips and kissing them. “Look at me Zendaya, **look at me**.”

She complied.

“There is no one, **no one** , in my whole life that compares to you. Not now, not then, not ever and I will always stand by you.” He stopped to take a deep breath, knowing what he was about to say. “We’ve known each other for little over a month but you have changed me. And it’s ridiculous to even think about it because a month is nothing. A month is the time a normal person is able to withstand a diet or dedicate to a gym membership. But I’m not normal;  **we’re** not normal.” He took another deep breath, lifting one of her hands and stroking it against his forehead, like he was trying to transfer her courage to himself. He looked her straight in the eyes and allowed the words to fall, hoping she’d catch them.

“ **I love you**.”

They both sat there in stunned silence, Zendaya not believing what she had heard and Val not believing what he had just said.

“Oh wow. I’ve never said that before. This was too soon? Yeah? Yeah, I’m sorry.”

All Zendaya could do was laugh. She still felt so much pain in her heart but for the last few weeks a feeling of joy and love had slowly been replacing that old feeling.

She kissed him, a look of utter bewilderment flashing across his face. They kissed for minutes, both gasping for air when they pulled apart but neither wanting to let go of each other. She kissed his forehead, then his nose and lastly she put a kiss on his lips.

“ **I love you too**.”


	10. Chapter 9

_August 8th 2015_

“Zendaya, what is this?”

She heard her father’s voice booming loudly from the living room. He found it. She walked carefully into the space, trying to decide what her excuse would be. **Indecisiveness**.  **Not enough time**.  **Too stressful**. As soon as she saw his face she knew that none of those would work.

He held the papers in his hands and repeated himself.

“What are these papers doing here?”

She tried the nonchalant approach. “What are those doing here? Nothing, I just haven’t gotten around to mailing them.”

Her father looked dumbfounded. “You haven’t gotten around to mailing them? Zendaya, what I am holding here in my hands is the key to your future. To your education. This is not something to take lightly!” He raised his voice with every sentence until her mother came out of the kitchen, shushing her husband.

“Kazembe, if Zendaya says that she hasn’t had the time to mail them, she hasn’t had the time.” She saw a certain amount of skepticism in her mother’s eyes but silently hoped there wouldn’t be a  **but**  thrown in there. There wasn’t.

“It’s because of that man, isn’t it? That New Yorker that  **you** , Claire, hired. And now he’s corrupting her.”

Zendaya narrowed her eyes, ready to fully answer her father for doubting Val but her mother raised her hand.

“Kazembe Ajamu Coleman. You will not speak a bad word about that man in this house. I hired him because I could  **see**  him. And he has shown me nothing but trust and respect and  **we**  will both do the same. This conversation is over. We will allow our nearly 19 year old daughter to make her own decisions and to send her own mail.” She walked towards her husband, who both looked agitated and defeated, and planted a kiss on his cheek, cleansing the faint lipstick mark off with her thumb.

In nearly the same instance the bell rang and Zendaya took the opportunity to get away and open the door. On the other side stood Val, a goofy smile plastered all over his face and a bag in his hand. He hugged her tight and kissed her on the cheek. He had met her father and wouldn’t dare initiate anything raunchier than that under his roof.

As he stepped inside he could feel tension in the air but decided against asking. He saw Mr. and Mrs. Coleman entering the foyer and went straight for Mr. Coleman, shaking his hand. Kazembe reciprocated with a firm grip and a mumble that Val could barely hear.  _I’ll wait for as long as you want Kaz, I’m not going anywhere_. Claire on the other hand was another story. She engulfed him in a hug and invited him for dinner. He declined saying “… unfortunately I have other plans tonight, although they are not as pleasing as your cooking.”

The two of them went up the stairs and into Zendaya’s room. “I have something for you.” He handed her the plastic bag and urged her to open it. Inside was what looked like a leather folder, all black. Zendaya gave him a confused smile and a thank you. “You’re buying me school stuff now?”

Val let out a laugh. “No! Well, not really. See this is a portfolio, for your art. See, you can either arrange every genre you draw or like, what style or … “ His voice drifted as he saw her face. She looked taken aback and a bit irritated.

“I’ve already told you that this is not going to happen. I’m not going to be an artist Val.”

Val tried to make light of the situation. “I know that. I just, I just wanted to help you get organized.” She stared at him, a look of dismay all over her face.

“Ok, maybe a part of this was about me pushing you. Which I shouldn’t do. This is not as romantic as I thought it would be.” He let himself fall down on her bed, the springs creaking under the weight.

Zendaya sat down next to him. “There is this competition I’m kinda interested in. It’s a project funded by the Paris College of Arts and The Art Institute. The winner gets to study art in Paris for a whole year. But it’s incredible savage, I mean, there are people applying that have been studying art for years and I have no chance.”

Val felt himself getting worked up and leaped out of the bed. “So you’re saying that this is what you want. You can’t keep lying to yourself. You can’t keep settling for things that are beneath you!”

Zendaya felt a bit put out.  _Why is this so important to him?_

“Why are you acting like this? Why is what I do so important to you? How am I settling with my life by going to Stanford, one of the top schools in the whole United States?”

“And what are you going to study?”

Zendaya felt stumped. She had no idea. There was nothing at all that held any interest to her.

“What? You’re just going to be undeclared for the rest of your life? Zendaya, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Stanford can wait. Stanford will wait. Paris won’t.”

She could sense that he was on edge. This wasn’t the Val she knew.  _Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think?_

She stood up and walked over to him, putting her hand on his heart. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

He let out a shaky breath and told her about his father. “My dad’s in town. Apparently he flew in yesterday and he wants to meet me. I can’t. I can’t think around him. I can’t relax. I’m just on edge you know? What does he want?”

“So you’re taking your frustrations with your father and yourself out on me?”

She could feel him stiffen under her touch. He backed away and for the first time Zendaya saw an angry side of Val. She could see him bite his tongue, holding the words he wanted to say. Instead he said, “ **you don’t know nothing** ” and walked out leaving Zendaya more betrayed than she had even been. But she did not know what would happen next.


	11. Chapter 10

Zendaya spent the rest of the evening thinking about his words. She knew that his frustrations had gotten the better of him and he had put her under unwanted pressure. But at the same time he was right. She could only admit it to herself but she did want a career as an artist. She wanted to paint and draw the beauty and the heartbreak that could be found in this world. She started arranging what she believed to be her best work into a portfolio, labelling it with her name and every other information that was needed. She wrote a letter, detailing why she should win the contest and the chance to study abroad in Paris. She put the portfolio on her nightstand, not really knowing what to do with it.  _Just in case_  she thought as she slowly drifted to sleep dreaming of Val.

_The next day_

Val felt awful. He hadn’t slept at all the whole night and although he had kept himself from calling her, knowing full well that he was to blame and trying to give her some space, he couldn’t wait to go see her.

He arrived at her house and rang the doorbell. There was no reply but he could hear voices coming from the backyard. He went around the house and was met by Claire, Kazembe and a few other people that he had never met before.

“Oh Val, what a nice surprise! Did Daya tell you about our family day? Are you here to join us?”

He greeted the faces he did not know and then spoke to Claire. “No, she didn’t mention it. But I am here to see her, is she around?”

“Well we asked her to run to the store but that was a while ago so she’s probably inside. Just go check.”

“Thanks Mrs. Cole …” She shot him a dirty look and he corrected himself “ … Claire.”

He walked in through the sliding doors that led to the living room and called out her name. No answer. He walked to the second floor, again calling out her name but again there was no answer. As he walked into her bedroom he noticed the portfolio on her nightstand. A jolt of pride ran through his body as he opened it. _She is capable of such great things._

His phone ringing surprised him. He looked at the screen.  _Papa_. Insecurity and doubt washed over him and before he realised what he was doing he grabbed the portfolio and walked outside to his car. After a quick Google search he set his way to the offices of the Art Institute.  **He submitted her portfolio**. The woman at the front desk wasn’t going to accept it at first, since he was submitting someone else’s work but he managed to smooth talk his way in. “A’right, but you have to give me the email address so I can send the confirmation letter.” He had known that Daya would have to find out; maybe he could get to her before she checked her email? “Of course, it’s dayacoleman@gmail.com”

“A’right, and maybe a phone number. Yours?” She gave him a wink and he almost wanted to gag, mainly because of the smell of her perfume.

“I’m sorry but I’m very much a taken man.”

“No exceptions?”

“No exceptions.”

“That’s one lucky girl.”

“I’m one lucky man.”  _And I hope I’ll continue to be._

As he walked out of the building his father called again and this time Val answered.

“Dad.”

“Valentin! Why have you not been answering my calls?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy. Just got out when you called.”

“Can we meet for a late lunch?”                          

Val knew that this was something that he had to do and accepted the offer. It only took him 15 minutes to drive to the restaurant where his father had already taken his space, the email Zendaya was about to receive long forgotten.

His father looked pleased to meet him, which was a far cry from the last time they had met over two months ago.

“You’re looking well Val.”

“Thank you papa.”

“Now, the reason why I asked you to meet with me is because of your mother.”

Fear gripped Val.  _Was something wrong with Mama?_

His father could see the concern etched across his face and laughed it off. “Settle down, your mother is healthy. She is worried though, we both are. You move across the country, no warning, and then we hear that you are … working as a part-time dance instructor?”

“Full time actually. I’m a working as a choreographer.”

“You’re not your own boss though. You’re working under, what’s her name …” Val’s father snapped his fingers at him like he was a dog, an act that had always irritated Val.  “Giglet!”

“Gigot. Cerise Gigot is her name.”            

“Yes! Now she’s a real dancer. French ballet you know. Very graceful.”

“You didn’t even know her name 5 seconds ago.”

“Do not give me this attitude boy. Not after everything!”

Val’s clenched his fists under the table. He knew this was a bad idea.

“I never though that I would look at my younger son and wish that he could be more like my older one. The disappointment I feel when I look at you Valentin.. “

His father looked at him like he was looking at trash. It stung a little less every time.

“I can’t deal with this right now.” He stood up from the table and prepared to leave. When he was about 5 feet from the table his father called after him.

“Flee! Like you always do. You never think about the consequences of your actions! NEVER!”

His father was still yelling as Val left the restaurant. He was furious and he didn’t know what to do so he just walked. He walked and walked and walked until he didn’t know where he was anymore. He slowed down until he was stationary in front of a place that had loud music coming from its inside. It was a bar. He knew that he shouldn’t. He knew that he was a goner if he’d set foot in that place. But in that moment in time he didn’t care.

The floor was sticky and the whole place reeked of different smells of mismatched alcohol. There were only four other people in there, all men. All probably trying to forget, just like he was. He sat down by the bar and ordered straight vodka, 140 proof. He was a Russian by default after all.

——–

Shortly after Val had left her house, Zendaya had returned with a bag full of groceries that her parents had asked her to buy. She spent some time outside in the yard with her family before deciding to change clothes. She ran upstairs and went straight to her closet, picking out a pair of shorts that she knew would go with the weather. She looked at her phone and noticed that she had gotten an email from someone that she did not know.  **confirmation@artinstitute.com**. _What?_ All of a sudden she noticed that the portfolio wasn’t on her nightstand and she frantically opened the email.

_Zendaya Coleman,_

_Your submission for our contest has been received. Thank you for your participation. The results will be made known on September 1st 2015 and fall term at the Paris College of Art will commence September 15th 2015._

_The winner of the scholarship will be awarded with a full year at the school, alongside a flight to and from Paris, room and board and monthly allowance._

_On behalf of the Art Institute & The Paris College of Art,_

_Miriam Nichols & Charlotte Rousselle_

Her heart sank. She couldn’t believe what she had just read. Who did this? She ran downstairs again, frantically looking for her mother. She found her in the kitchen chatting away with Zendaya’s aunt.

“Mom, has anyone been in my room today?”

“What an odd question honey.”

Zendaya felt the frustration rising. “Mom, I’m being serious. Has anyone been in my room today?”

Claire’s smile faded away as soon as she saw how serious her daughter was.

“Not that I know of sweetie. Val did stop by to see you but you were out …”

“Val came?” She could physically feel her heart break into a thousand pieces. How could he have done this? She had made it clear that she had not wanted to partake in the contest. She wasn’t ready; she didn’t feel comfortable enough to show anyone her work. Except him, and now he had ruined that. She stumbled backwards and went up the stairs to her room. She grabbed her phone off the counter where she had thrown him and started ringing. No answer. Again. No answer. Again. **No answer**.

——-

Val had turned his phone on silent the first time she called. She knows. He knew she wasn’t going to forgive him for this. He knew that he had betrayed her. He knew that she wasn’t ready and yet he had taken matters into his own hands **without thinking of the consequences**. His father was right. He just did what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it. Others be damned. It had been acceptable behaviour to the ones around him when he was out there winning dance titled and championships. When he was bringing something back that everyone could enjoy but now? Now he was a nothing. He was a nobody and his behaviour was unacceptable.

He looked at the glass in his hand and then to his phone. He had been there for over two hours now. Two hours without a single sip. Four months ago, when he was fresh out of rehab, he would’ve downed it in one gulp without even thinking. What was different now?

He didn’t really have to ask himself. He knew. **It was her**. She was the one everything revolved around. She was the one who made him happy, the one who he loved and the one who loved him. The one who could drive him to drink but also the only one who made sure that he didn’t.

He wasn’t going to make this mistake again. Alcohol always lead to other things and none of those things were what he wanted. He knew he had to work hard, he would probably have to start from scratch but he was not letting her go. He had promised her that. He was going to give her as much time as he could but he was not letting go.


	12. Chapter 11

He called her that night but she didn’t answer. He spent the whole Sunday trying to get in touch with her but again there was never an answer. He wanted to go see her but he knew she needed time. Time away from him, time for herself.

He made a beeline for her as soon as he got to work the next morning. She looked … normal. Like she was over it. But she wasn’t. He found that out as soon as the words “I’m sorry” left his lips.

She was cold, not an ounce of heat emanating from her like normally. He tells her about his dad and the bar and the drink and how he didn’t take a sip  **because**  of her. Because finally he had found his anchor. The one steady thing in his life.

She stays the same. Neither of them speaks until she confronts him about the portfolio. “Why?” “Because you deserve Paris” “And that’s yours to decide?” “No. I have a problem, with boundaries and apparently I never stay long enough to take the consequences or deal with the repercussions.” “Apparently?” “I don’t.”

“You know I can’t trust you anymore.”

……….

“You’re not going to say anything?” For the first time he could hear actual emotion on her voice and when he looked at her he saw tears running down her cheeks. He brushed the tears away with his fingers and spoke softly to her.

“I know you can’t trust me right now. That’s the consequence of my actions. But I’m not going to run away from that. I’ll be here,  **when**  you feel like you can trust me again, I’ll be here.“ He laid a tender kiss on her forehead, one of his favorite places for some reason. As he walked back to his place of work, he turned around one more time. “I love you not only for who you are, but for who I am when I am with you.” And with that he left, only hoping that time would heal all wounds.

——–

Weeks went by with nothing changing. Zendaya was civil but she was still deeply hurt and never thought for a second to let him back in. She thought about withdrawing from the competition but decided against it, knowing deep in her heart that she would never win anyway. August came to an end and so did Zendaya’s stint at the theatre. She felt relieved about not working there anymore but a pang of sadness about leaving Val behind.

September 1st came and Zendaya felt like she was carrying around this huge weight. Although she had told herself again and again that she would not get the scholarship, a tiny part of her had held on to hope. As the day went on and the call never came she though of how foolish she had been.

At around 5 pm she sat by the dinner table, eating with her parents. The home phone rang and Kazembe got up and answered.

“This is Kazembe speaking. Yes hold on one moment. Zendaya it’s for you.”

Zendaya took the hone from her father and answered.

“Yes this is she.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Are you serious? Yes of course. Oh my god, thank you so much. 10 AM tomorrow morning? Yes I’ll be there, thank you.”

She hung up the phone and stared in amazement at her parents who had no idea what was going on.

“I … I won.”

“You won what sweetie?” her mother said, still the same confused look on her face.

“This scholarship contest. A year in Paris to study art. I won.” Her voice broke with a mixture of happiness and utter surprise.

Her parents looked stunned. “We had no idea that you applied for anything like that. Art? Is this why you didn’t want to verify your Stanford spot?”

Zendaya didn’t really know what to say. “I didn’t … It wasn’t me that applied. Val did it for me. Without me knowing.”

“And that’s why he doesn’t come around anymore?” Her father gave her a knowing look.

She looked sadly at them. “Yeah, that’s the reason. I just didn’t feel like I could trust me after that.”

“But if he hadn’t this opportunity wouldn’t have come your way my sweet Daya.”

She looked at her parents, a wave of uncertainty sweeping over her. “So you think that I should go?”

They both stood from the table and enveloped her in their arms. “Of course. I remember you as a little girl, always drawing and painting. I always said that one day you would become a famous artist. And then you just stopped. Or so I thought. You don’t know how happy it makes me to know that I was wrong. Go. Take a chance, challenge yourself. Have an adventure. Everything is still going to be here when you get back.”

“Even Stanford?”

“We will defer Stanford. And if you still want that life, you will have that life.”

She spent the evening thinking about all of the things that she would gain from this and all of the things she could possibly lose. The pros outweighed the cons and when she arrived with her parents at the Art Institute office the following morning, it was to accept the scholarship and make the final plans for her departure.

“Four days, that’s soon.”

“It surely is but we really want Ms. Coleman here to fully get engrossed in the Paris life before the term starts. When you arrive there’s only ten days until classes begin and that’s barely enough time for everything. You’re on the fast track for a visa, we have ties of course, and we only need your signature … in a couple of places.” She handed her a bundle of papers about everything that she needed and needed to know. She signed all of them and got copies for herself.  _This is real._

Zendaya still felt a bit unsure, especially about why she had been chosen. Miriam had a knowing glint in her eye. “It wasn’t that your work was astronomically better than others. It was the emotion that shone through. Emotions are very hard to capture in art. 80% of the time the only thing an artist can do is draw facial expressions or set the mood by using dark or light colors. But you … you’re special. Every stroke in your older pictures, it was full of anguish and sorrow. It shone through and we really did think that it was too much. But then we saw your newer work and it was so different. The pure joy and love in those pictures, especially the portrait of that handsome man. It was exhilarating. We knew then that we had to award you with the scholarship. You have a gift Ms. Coleman and we want to nurture it.”

Zendaya’s heart warmed up with her words. Not only did Val submit her work to this competition making it possible for her to win, the drawing of him had held the final vote.  _Thank you._

The excitement built itself up for the next couple of days while she sorted everything out. She said goodbye to her family and packed her bags with the essentials, her parents would send the bigger stuff over to Europe. The only loose end was Val. She contemplated about going to the theatre and saying goodbye to him but in the end she decided against it. Her feelings for him were still too strong and she wasn’t sure that she would go through with the move if she would see him. On the ride to the airport she gave her mom a letter that she had written to him. “Can you make sure that he gets it?”

“Of course I can honey” her mother had said while holding her tight in the backseat.

They said their goodbyes and Zendaya went her way, the promise of an epic adventure seeping through her veins.

As her parents made their way back through the airport to the parking lots they saw a handsome young man sprinting in their direction. He stopped as he saw them, a defeated look on his face.

“She didn’t tell you” Claire said, a pitying look on her face.

“No. I found out from some guys at the theatre when I went looking for you. So she’s … gone?”

Kazembe nodded his head, laying a hand on his shoulder as he walked past him.

Claire hugged him tightly, whispering, “She’ll be back” in his ear and sliding the letter Zendaya had intended for him into his hand.

He read the whole thing seated in his car with tears slowly falling down his face, only thoughts of her in his mind. He read the letter again and again until he could recite it from memory.

_Dear Val,_

_There are so many things I want to say to you. You may think I’m a coward for not speaking to you directly but this is what my level of courage is allowing me right now. If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t be going on this journey. And for that I want to thank you. I want to thank you for all the joy you brought to my life, even though it was followed by some sorrow. I want to thank you for all those times you stood by me and for every truth that I found in your words. I want to thank you for your patience, and so even want to thank you for the frustration that sometimes broke through because it made me think and it made me realise my potential. You saw the best there was in me, you gave me faith because you believed. And most of all, I want to thank you for all the love you gave me. You opened yourself up to me and made me do the same._

_I remember the very first time I saw you. You caught my immediately and I felt intrigued by you. I will always remember the very first time we met, how you instantly tried to see through the walls I had built up over the years, and how you succeeded. I will always remember the very first time we danced, you arms keeping me safe, your lips showing me how much I meant to you. I will always remember how I fell in love with you. without knowing how or when. I love you without understanding it myself._

_Make me a promise. Promise me that you will succeed. Promise me that you’ll make peace, with yourself and the ones you have hurt. Promise me that you’ll find happiness, wherever and whenever. Promise me that you’ll remember my face, my voice and my touch. But most of all, promise me that you’ll move forward, however you may do it. Be free. Love and be loved._

_I love you now._

_I loved you then._

_I’ll love you tomorrow._

_Daya_                                           


	13. Epilogue

Zendaya woke up to the smell of fresh bread and loud voices. She stretched out her body and smiled to herself as she stood up. She walked towards the window and opened it. Not the smell from the bakery that occupied the lower floor attacked all her senses. The fruit stalls opposite her building were opening up and the grocers’ were chatting loudly between themselves.

It was July and she had been in Paris for 10 months. The school had ended last month but Zendaya had fallen in love with the city and had made her move permanent. She had, with the help of some friends, found a perfect little one-bedroom apartment near the college, which she had now transferred to. She missed her family back in the states but she Skype-d them frequently. She spent most of her time talking with Val though. He had, per her letter, moved back to New York after she had left, to mend his relationship with his family and friends. He had been sober for almost two years and was working both at his father and brother’s studio as a teacher/choreographer and as also helping recovering addicts like himself.

Well he had been, he wasn’t working there anymore.

She got dressed, grabbed a croissant and some orange juice quickly downing it. She glanced over the apartment, making sure that it was clean and tidy so her new roommate wouldn’t pin her as a slob the moment they walked in the door. She made sure she had her wallet as she left the apartment, locking the door. When she was at the bottom of the stairs she realised she had forgotten on of her most precious possessions. She turned around, unlocking the door and heading straight into the bedroom. She opened the nightstand and pulled out a photo strip that contained four photos, each one of her and Val. She put it in her jean pocket, a place it occupied every day and once again head out the door.

She hailed a taxi that would take her to the airport where she would pick up the one person who had made Paris possible for her, had made her dream come true. Her new roommate. The love of her life.

**_Valentin Chmerkovskiy._ **


End file.
